Dawn's Awakening 2: Reprisal
by Faladon25
Summary: The second part of the ongoing saga-in-progress
1. Chapter Six: Escape

Chapter Six  
  
"It has been two days since we arrived here in this strange laboratory. Faladon has died, sadly. Sarah is showing signs of recovering after we, Jewel and I, administered the antidote to her. She was infected with the virus. Faladon gave his life for hers, that lovely person. I don't think Sarah knows, she and he were lovers from hearsay. I pity the poor woman. She is only eighteen; Faladon was only seventeen. I don't know if her young heart can take the grief. My twenty-three year old heart barely did. Onto other subjects:  
  
"This lab is abnormal. I see Afflicted around every corner, but, if Jewel is with me, they don't even move towards me, or anywhere. She exerts some sort of control over them, of which, I have not learned. I don't know what day or time it is, my watch was taken by Jewel in return for her security. So, on that note, I stop writing, for I must plan my escape."  
  
Dory stopped writing on the old typewriter, content with its contents. She smiled a hopeful smile. They would escape, her and Sarah, and they would get out of this town. Hopefully. An afterthought.  
  
She stood and walked into the small room that held Sarah. Jewel was in there, toying with some test tubes and vials. In one was a greenish liquid, and in the other was an amber fluid, like that of apple cider.  
  
Sarah lie on the floor, on top of a mattress, covered by a sheet. Her brown eyes were open, now gathering their vibrant glow once more. Dory and her both had new clothes that, however simple, were comfortable.  
  
So Dory entered, her footfalls heralding her entrance. She looked towards Jewel, "Can we leave, Sarah and I?" she asked innocently. "No," replied Jewel quickly, as though she had expected the question. Jewel bit her lip in thought.  
  
"Y'know what?" she offered. "You can go, as long as you'd like to deal with my child, Sans. He'd be most happy to show you the way, though to where, I know not."  
  
Dory winced at the thought of having to encounter that monster again. But she already knew the layout of the underground laboratory, she debated. Couldn't she escape and still avoid the creature?  
  
Well, I'll have to, she decided. I can't stay in this hole forever. "Okay, I'll go," she announced. "I'll take Sarah as well!" she exclaimed.  
  
Now it was Jewel's turn to wince. "What?" she asked incredulously, glaring at Dorris. Her chest was heaving, and she had a manic gleam to her eyes. "You can't leave!" she implored Dory.  
  
"You said I could and I am!" Dory contorted with determination. "Now, I'd like to have my weapons back, if you please," she bidded, for Jewel had confiscated the two's weapons the first day they had arrived.  
  
Now Jewel was genuinely worried. "Well. if you go, then I shall leave as well," she offered. "Sure, if you'd like," Dory told her. Sarah stirred in the bed, "We're leaving?" she asked Dory. "Yes," she answered, helping her out of the bed.  
  
Sarah smiled, a strange sight now that her features had been dulled by the virus. Her eyes now brightened with hope. She had wanted to leave before she had even arrived in the laboratory, but she couldn't speak it, for she had been too weary and sick and unconscious.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
So the three left the building, never meeting the monster, though they noticed that Jewel had some sort of remote control bracelet that flashed a red light at regular intervals. They reached the hospital doors.  
  
The Afflicted had taken their leave, they found after exiting the building in a flurry. There was nothing in the grass as well, leaving the trio a sense of security. They hadn't seen any zombies so far, and they were now to the hole that Fal had made in the chain link fence.  
  
Sarah paused here, a frown on her face. She kneeled down to pick up a small thing from the ground. Sarah placed it to her face and sobbed. This continued but for a few seconds, stopped by a thud to the group's left, from inside the building they had stayed at when Sarah had first been infected.  
  
They reached the steel door where Dory had received the scratch she still bore. It was slightly ajar. Before they entered the building, though, Dory asked Sarah something.  
  
"What was it you picked up?" she bidded Sarah. "A button," Sarah replied slowly. "And what was so unique about the button?" Dory asked, though she already knew the answer. "It was Faladon's," she answered bluntly. Dory stayed silent afterward. 


	2. Chapter Seven: David

Chapter Seven  
  
Into the large, boarded-up building the three women purged, heedless of danger, searching for the origin of an unsettling sound they had heard not a minute ago. Taking the lead was a tall woman with thick glasses that concealed her beautiful, pondering hazel eyes. Behind her, in the center of the trio, strode a cunningly good-looking girl who bore a smirk of endless amusement. Finally, in the back of the group walked a silent, dark girl, stunningly pretty, though now she bore a depressing grief.  
  
They followed the short passageway that ended at a wall. A small bureau lay on the ground, pieces split asunder by some unknown person or persons. Nearby, imbedded into the concrete of the floor, was a wooden trapdoor with bronze hinges. The same unknown party that had torn the dresser from its original bearings had set this ajar. It was past this trapdoor and down the ladder that lay hidden by it, the three persons delved.  
  
At the bottom of the steel ladder was a large room, littered with the bodies of dead humans, eyes still open, blood still fresh. The trio stepped tentatively over and around the inconvenience and found themselves at a steel door, also ajar, with wet blood on the knob.  
  
They entered slowly, carefully searching the room. It was small, probably a bedroom. A door led northwards into a room that had its light on. A bed was situated in a corner of the room, spotted with blood. The ground also held spatters of blood.  
  
Dory crept into the room in front of her. She entered and the other two heard a shout. It wasn't her, though. Instead, it was a lightly built man nursing a wound on his left wrist. Dory instructed the others to enter as well, claiming that the man was "not sick".  
  
So, Sarah and Jewel entered the bathroom. It was a bathroom with a shower and a toilet and a sink, which the man was now bent over, his right hand holding his left wrist. He was stricken by the trio's appearance, but now attended to himself.  
  
"What happened?" Dory asked the man quietly, so as not to shock him. He looked up at her with dull blue eyes. "I was sick of it all," he replied. "What?" Dory asked, but Sarah changed the subject. "Come inside the room," she offered.  
  
The man nodded his head and stood up straight. He was well over six feet tall, but was very thin, probably from malnutrition. Despite this fault, he still looked very formidable. He had a kind face and curious eyes.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The man had sat on the bed, still grasping his left wrist, now with a cotton strip. Dory sat beside him, oddly attracted to this man. Jewel was in the front room, investigating and Sarah was using the restroom.  
  
"So, how did that happen to you?" she asked again. The man sighed. "I'll tell you the whole story." Dory smiled, "Go on."  
  
"I am- was- a reporter for the Arizona Republic. I had been covering the story of the zombies along with many others. I alone survived when they raided the camp we had set up behind an army barricade. I escaped into the city, wandering about, looking for other survivors and a way out of the city. It had been about three months of searching, and yet, I had found nothing," he sighed. "I tired of it and tried to end it by slashing my wrists. However, my more reasonable mind told me it was a bad idea and I ran, looking for a safe haven. The Afflicted can smell the blood, they can. I came here and said to myself, David, you are a lucky man. David's my name, anyway. I ran into the building, fell down the hole that was normally accessible by a ladder and found myself here. That is when you found me."  
  
Dory smiled. "Well, we are always in welcome of another friend," she noted. "Hello, David," she began, "my name's Dorris, or just Dory." She held out her hand to shake. 


	3. Chapter Eight: Crying

Chapter Seven  
  
Sarah, Dorris, and David now slept. Sarah slept in the main room, after cleaning it out, of course. There she lay peacefully, though fitful thoughts ran about her mind. She grieved over losing her lover and was developing suicidal tendencies. She longed for his touch once more, his laughter. She longer for his more intimate self, the one she had enjoyed many a night before the disaster. Now he was gone, though Sarah was still coping with the loss, and he would never return. A tear ran down her soft cheek and she sobbed softly, crying herself to sleep.  
  
Dory, too, was restless, though for independent reasons. She had grown greatly attracted to this man David and now she worried. If she and he were together, then losing him would hurt her tenfold. So, she committed, she wouldn't bond with anyone anymore until they were gone, out of this forsaken city.  
  
Jewel stalked the halls and rooms of the underground base. She had climbed upstairs and bolted both of the doors, the main steel one and the trapdoor. She had then gone back downstairs to search about for any weapons or food.  
  
The woman had found one of the Afflicted lying on the ground, squirming about, obviously in pain. Jewel noticed that the monster's skin was tight against its bones. It seemed to be starved. It was missing an arm and that probably was the reason that it was famished: It couldn't climb back up the ladder it had come down to attack.  
  
She reared back to drive the axe head into the zombie's rotten flesh. The creature cried once, a high shriek that pierced the air about Jewel, and then lay still, lifeless. The others heard the scream but merely sighed at their waking; the other three knew she had killed one of the Afflicted. So Jewel had then escaped the room, away from the noise.  
  
In the next chamber, Jewel discovered that the regiment had left behind a small crate, maybe a meter tall and the same in width. She broke the crate with the pick on the backside of her axe. The crate's cover came off easily.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I found these," she exclaimed an hour later, dropping the items she found in the crate. A strange vial fell to the bed, along with a sniper rifle and a yellow pack of C4 explosives. The vial was filled with an amber liquid, much like the vials that Jewel had been handling earlier that day.  
  
"What is that?" Dory asked curiously, pointing towards the vial. "That is an anti-virus for the T Virus that was developed before the disaster. I know because I once worked at the lab. That is, before the disaster," she grew silent.  
  
David grabbed at the rifle, testing its weight in his hands. "I think I'll use this," he declared with a smile. Sarah, now awake, stared at the vial. She continued with he questioning that Dorris had begun.  
  
"Why did the lab go bad?" she asked simply, not bothering to put the inquirement into more literately correct. She bore an inquisitive look upon her visage.  
  
"I was a scientist, once, at the laboratory. I studied biological testing. It was there, in the hospital, that our lab was hidden. Not even the government knew of it. It was strictly top secret," she told Dory and Sarah.  
  
"You didn't answer my question," Sarah persisted firmly. She narrowed her eyes. "Now tell me, how did things in the laboratory go awrong?"  
  
Jewel glared at Sarah, obviously annoyed by Sarah's persistence. She took a deep breath, and then spoke: "As I was getting to, before I was rudely interrupted," she broke off, a violent glare in her eyes. "The lab was invaded by one of our experiments, one who was banned for its pure destructiveness. The boss fired the group for reckless experimenting."  
  
Sarah glared back at Jewel once more. Her eyes were turning hideously hateful. Didn't she know that I've been hurt? She asked herself.  
  
Obviously, Jewel didn't or didn't care. "Well, it seems that Sarah's a little downtrodden, so we should just let her alone," she instructed, leading the others out of the room.  
  
Now Sarah winced in an internal pain. Her brown eyes watered; her lower lip trembled. She soon became sobbing uncontrollably, her head buried into the pillows. 


	4. Chapter Nine: Mmm Alcohol

Chapter Eight  
  
A man lie in the street, with shadows creeping about him. A trash can fell to the asphalt, alerting the weakened man. His head turned upwards, towards the source of the noise. Something drew near, its heavy breathing rising in decibels as it approached.  
  
The creature fell to the ground, its legs dismembered from is body. More creatures neared. "I'm. not dead yet," Faladon muttered, climbing unsteadily to his feet. His sword, dripping with the Afflicted's coagulated blood, drove downward into the creature again. It spasmed once in agony then lay still.  
  
More approached, and he charged madly, his eyes gleaming with a green tint. Like a bull, he plowed through the horde, hacking and slashing about and around himself. His scimitar now was completely coated with dull dark blood. Three zombies fell to the ground, two headless, the other groping agonizingly at his insides, with his innards seeping out, a dark brownish color.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Fal sat with his knees to his chest, as Sarah did now. It had been two days since he was separated from the party. His stomach was aching from lack of fill. The winter wind blew in and a drizzle was beginning.  
  
Desiccated corpses lay rotting on the ground. The stench was nigh overwhelming. Faladon winced at the rancid smell. He stood to move. He hadn't eaten once since he had left he lab in a rush, to escape the monster there. That was three days ago.  
  
Faladon began to walk away from the battle site, lest he incur the challenge of more Afflicted, drawn by the scent. Into a nearby liquor shop he traveled.  
  
Inside, he found the place was ransacked. It seemed that a lot of people had tried to make their worries about dying faint. Broken bottles lie admidst their spilled contents. Faladon picked his way along the floor, wary of the glass. A hole in the roof leaked water into the room. A puddle of rain was gathering on the cement floor, mixing into the alcohol like vegetable oil in colored water. A sales counter was placed on the western side of the room with various objects on it. A large rack that once held cigarettes was set behind the counter. On the northern side was a door that led into the back of the shop.  
  
Faladon ventured into the door, which gaped like a great black maw. The room bore in its bosom a small table, with many small shot cups strewn on its surface. There were bullet holes scattered around the room, the slugs dug deep into the stained concrete. A handgun lay on the ground, bloodstained and empty, Faladon found as he inspected it.  
  
Faladon left the room and came out into the main sales room. He scavenged about and discovered that there was some food and drink to be had there. It was meager: a bag of potato chips, some fruit, kept unspoiled by its placement in a forgotten icebox, and a bottle of ale. He took up a stool and set it before the only unbroken window. Thence, he sat, not taking heed of the danger to be found by sitting near the window.  
  
He stared out of the window at the solemn setting: a bare street lay before him, with an unsettled car on the broken sidewalk, its windows all shattered. A small stream of water trailed down the panes, blazing its own path down the glass. Fal stared at this for a good while before settling his gaze upon the street once more. Three figures stalked the street cautiously, picking their way carefully through the forsaken way. They were all cloaked in rain and jackets. Faladon recognized one's voice.  
  
"I can't move anymore," a woman spoke, very strangely familiar.  
  
"Hurry up! Unless you'd like to be caught resting in this rain with enemies all about," spoke another woman, this time, foreign.  
  
Faladon now knew who the first speaker was. He hopped off of the wooden stool and burst out the door. A downpour fell on him, weighing him down as though it were solid. He shouted, "Dory! Sarah!" 


	5. Chapter Ten: Suicide

Chapter Nine  
  
Before, when the city of Phoenix was whole and not teeming with anarchy, Faladon and Sarah had gone to the same high school. They were nearly graduated, seniors both, when the disaster struck. It had been but a short time. However, it had seemed to the two to be forever. Their only infatuation had been of each other. Now they were split apart, maybe to never meet again.  
  
"What do you mean she is gone?" Fal ranted to Dorris. How? When? Where was she headed? He wondered. He wanted to scream and howl at the dark, sagged sky. He wanted to tear it asunder and watch it dissipate into nothingness. He wanted Sarah.  
  
"She left with naught but a note," she explained. She handed him the letter, upon which was words hastily scrawled in Sarah's small handwriting. He quickly pulled the sides apart; it was folded in its center. Faladon read the note aloud, hardly believing the words he both spoke and read.  
  
"'Goodbye friends. I have troubled you too longer' Oh Sarah. 'This is my closing to a happy life, a conclusion to a happy tale of two lovers. Goodbye dear friends, I say once more.'" Faladon stopped to read the rest silently.  
  
He finished reading what was inscribed on the paper. His eyes showed ever- greatening signs of angst and disbelief. When he finished the letter, he stood, silently, the storm raging all about him.  
  
Then he dropped the soggy length of paper and it blew away solemnly, solemn like its contents. Off into the haze of rain it fluttered, until it disappeared suddenly. Faladon fell to his knees with a splash.  
  
Dory took a step forward to lay her arm around Fal's shoulder as she sat. Faladon simply stared ahead with his eyes, darkened to a dull green at his grief. Tears welled up in his eyes but he ground his teeth together so sharply that they pained. He mustn't cry. He was still the leader in this group and he must be strong.  
  
He raised back up to his feet, a new vigilance. They must pay, he thought vengefully. Any who have pushed us apart must pay. He turned to Jewel.  
  
A second later, her head fell to the ground. A gush of blood streamed from her neck. Jewel was dead now, and amidst Dory's frantic complaints, Fal dragged her aside to hold off any Afflicted who came by. He took up her pretty head and tossed it aside with a sigh.  
  
"I didn't like her much anyway," Dory finally concluded as she followed Fal once more. David had taken flight when he saw Faladon's rage. Faladon walked silently down the street, contemplating.  
  
Too long it had been since he had released his anger such and Fal now felt empowered. He straightened with a new pride, despite his grief.  
  
Sarah had died. She had killed herself in her angst and now he, Faladon Mycosta, must live on to avenge her death. To bring fear into the zombies' crude minds. To show them what true horror was like, that was his job.  
  
The rain had now died down enough for decently efficient travel. They soon stopped to rest though, as Dory was growing fatigued. They picked an old two-story apartment complex. In a room upstairs, they rested.  
  
They were running low on food and drink, Dory found out when she took inventory of their things combined. All they had were two bottles of purified water, the things Fal had found inside the liquor store, and some dried beef jerky. Altogether, they had enough to go on for a day or perchance two.  
  
Faladon slept in the bedroom while Dory stood outside the room, on the balcony, scanning the area for any signs of life (or the lack of it). The day went by slowly, and around noon, Faladon woke. Dory found him inside nibbling on a bit of jerky.  
  
"You fool!" she shouted at him. Faladon didn't wince though. He, instead, defended himself: "Why? We're not to live for long?! So who is the fool? The person who bides their time in hiding; or he who gets what they want themselves?" he yelled back at her.  
  
They sat there for a while silent, with heaving chests and nasty words on their tongues. Then, a sound disrupted their silent debate. Something slammed against the door.  
  
"It seems we must stop this folly and defend ourselves," Fal noted, drawing his sword but not taking his eyes off of his friend. Dory unholstered her crossbow, doing the same. 


	6. Chapter Eleven: Sarah Lives!

Chapter Eleven  
  
A small figure crawled over the hill of rubble. Slowly, very slowly, it made its way across the barren collapsed building. It had once been the Bank One building, towering once high in its prime. Now, it was reduced to a mound of broken beams and shattered glass. The person was very carefully crossing this building.  
  
Sarah saw, with a good deal of wonder, a monolith of an establishment before her. The old Bank One Ballpark lay maybe a mile away. The large bowl was mostly intact, save for a large crack on its northernmost side. Some explosion must have split the wall. Not a single person who lived now knew.  
  
A cat followed the woman closely. Its name was Tomorrow. She called the cat Tom. The cat was a small, strangely thin black and white striped feline. Sarah knelt on the hill to pick him up. She would say to the cat, "Everything will be better Tomorrow."  
  
The cat meowed softly and lifted its head to sniff the air. Apart from being her companion for two days, the cat was something of an Afflicted alarm. It knew the smell, it seemed; so she would prepare for something if Tom, sniffed the air frantically. She did so now and bolted away. Though she was weary, she needed her life to find Faladon. The cat sprang after her, afraid to be alone.  
  
It was to the baseball stadium she ran. Speedily, she sprinted down what used to be Central Street, then she traveled through a few more streets. A broken banner that once flapped in the wind now lay on the asphalt of the roads. Its metal holder lay, astrewn, on the ground nearby.  
  
The sun was setting solemnly behind the horizon, marking Sarah's mood. Now the end of the land was ablaze with its red light, the sky above grew dark, and Sarah grew cold. A stale breeze blew in among the destroyed Phoenix downtown. It blew away the clouds that had been looming overhead after the storm that had occurred the day she had parted from the others.  
  
With the stagnant wind came a chill that Sarah felt in her bones. She wore only the bland nondescripte clothing she obtained from Jewel. Where Jewel, as well as Dorris and David were, she knew not. It was at this moment, only a few miles away, that Jewel had lost her life at the fury of Fal; the same Faladon, her love that she now longed and searched for.  
  
If she could get to the park, then maybe she could send some sort of signal to show Fal that she was thence still living. She still needed to get there first. No need to get too far ahead of myself, she informed herself.  
  
The soft padding of the cat behind her had ceased. She turned to see what had happened and saw that the cat smelled the stale air once more. This time, however, it showed more need than before, when it had been merely curious. Something was happening. She heard noises emanating from the entrance.  
  
She crept closer, past upturned benches and barrels that once contained trash. Their innards had been burned in a vain attempt to ward the Afflicted away. Ashes were scattered about the ground. A few bones lay to the side; evidently, their flesh had been stripped away long ago by carrion birds and Afflicted. She closed on the wide entrance into the building.  
  
Bricks that had once made up the outside of the entrance now lay broken on the sidewalk. Shards of concrete were scattered all about. Sarah had to pick her way across this field of rock before she reached the door. Another crash resounded from the opening.  
  
She crept more tentatively now, wary of the noises. She threw her back to the wall and poked her head into the threshold.  
  
Inside the building there was a hall. Once, people had strolled around in this hallway, crowding the large place. There had once been workers to populate the shops along the sides; now they lie empty. Trash littered the ground, it lay along with rotting corpses. The dead bodies had once been employees and fans, but now they lay still and lifeless.  
  
Sarah heard the noise again, closer now. It came from around the curved corner of the ring about the park. A shadowy figure came around the bend.  
  
The woman gasped at the sight of the mysterious creature that was quickly approaching. Sarah was weaponless. She shouted: "Stay where you are!"  
  
Surprisingly, the figure stopped in midstride. It now was holding its breath. This was a small human shaped thing that had a feminine shape: it had a small middle that tapered down to rounded hips, and above the middle were shapely breasts. The thing reminded Sarah of an hourglass and she scoffed at it. The other woman seemed living. The thought that Sarah had that it still bore a beating heart in its bosom was reinforced when it spoke.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Claire was the beauteous thing. Claire had once been a model. Her shoot had been interrupted by a gush of Afflicted into the theatre. From thence, she had dashed through the city. Her pretty hair bore many snarls, as did everyone's then. No one had been able to wash his or her hair for three months (not like everyone had washed it before then). Horrible things she had been through and Sarah pitied this woman, though she generally didn't associate with women who bore such good looks. She felt like these women thought themselves higher than her.  
  
Claire told her that this was a safe place and that Sarah could dwell here for a spot of time. Claire had food, water, and weapons. Sarah went upstairs into the bowl. She slept peacefully, for the first time in a long time, on the seats in the stadium. Claire hovered above Sarah to ensure her safekeeping. Or was she? 


End file.
